


Why Don't We Break the Rules Already?

by xsaturated



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-19
Updated: 2012-10-19
Packaged: 2017-11-16 14:50:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/540644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xsaturated/pseuds/xsaturated
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When this thing between them first escalated Blaine had only asked for one thing from him: 'No promises.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Don't We Break the Rules Already?

For the first time in a very long while Sebastian thinks he might actually care about his father’s opinion.

It is so very _couple_ y that it makes every last shred of self-respect he thinks he has ever had want to shrivel up and die and he is more than certain he would self-combust with the sheer force of his embarrassment if Blaine ever even _suspected_ the truth; but Blaine is the first person-of-significance he has ever really had. 

And, more than anything, Sebastian really, _really_ wants his father to like him.

He is pretty sure it must say something about him that, despite the often hesitant nature of their relationship, he is still so preoccupied with getting his father’s approval (and maybe the part of him that sometimes feels like he is still competing with Kurt’s shadow, cast long and broad by the bright lights of New York City, is unfairly resentful of the relationship Blaine still maintains with Kurt’s father.)

And maybe the realization that he wants Blaine to meet his parents is a little terrifying; maybe it feels like admitting that, whatever they actually are to each other, it means something. Maybe it feels like admitting that they are more than just attraction or desire or unexplained kisses or tumbling into each other’s beds. 

Maybe it feels like giving in to the persistent, infuriating insistence of his heart that even if Blaine isn’t completely _his_ yet, even if it is too soon and the ghost of Kurt Hummel still hovers between them, Sebastian might just be _Blaine’s_.

It’s kind of the problem really.

Because now Blaine meeting his parents _matters_ to him. He has delayed it and avoided it and made such a big deal of it that now he can’t help but feel like this whole situation could have been avoided.

Mostly, he really kind of wishes that he hadn’t put the whole 'asking Blaine' thing off for _quite_ so long.

“You’re inviting me to your father’s wedding?” Blaine asks, looking like he is caught between being both incredibly flattered and incredibly confused.

The resulting expression on his face kind of makes him look like he is about to sneeze.

“Third wedding,” Sebastian points out dutifully, sipping at his coffee and trying not to look quite so nervous as he inexplicably feels. “I mean, it’s really not that big of a deal, they’ll probably be divorced by next year. But free champagne, your ass in a nice suit - I thought it could be fun.”

Blaine tilts his head a little, a strange expression on his face that immediately sets Sebastian on edge for a reason he can’t quite determine.

“I’ve never even met your father,” Blaine points out carefully, “Are you sure that he would want some strange kid he doesn’t even know at his wedding, drinking his free champagne?”

“You wouldn’t be some _strange kid_ ,” Sebastian protests immediately and hurriedly checks himself at the sight of Blaine’s lips twitching. “You would be my date.”

“ _Date_ ,” Blaine repeats softly, like it’s a new word to him.

For them, Sebastian realizes, it actually kind of is. 

“Date,” he echoes Blaine firmly, aiming for something nonchalant and utterly failing when the slow, hesitant smile on Blaine’s face branches out into something brilliant and blinding.

“Great, ” Blaine replies, his smile so wide that Sebastian can’t help but return it. “It’s a date then.”

\-- 

That is around about the time that Sebastian starts to panic.

\--

Here’s the thing:

Sebastian is intimately aware of all the many ways he can make a boy fall apart beneath his hands (his mouth, his body). He knows how to drag it out, how to bring them to the brink and keep them there, gasping and writhing and desperate, until they _beg_ him to let them come. He knows how to get them there fast, with the unrelenting drag of his fist and the messy, wet slide of his tongue. 

Lately he’s been adding to his repertoire: he learns how to worship, to hold a body down and explore so gently, so thoroughly, with reverential fingers and the soft, intent press of his lips that it can last for hours before Blaine is telling him to hurry up, unless he actually _wants_ to explain to Blaine’s parents just why he is defiling their baby boy while they’re trying to eat their dinner. He learns how to kiss sweet and slow in the aftermath, with no intent whatsoever beyond the taste of Blaine in his mouth and that need to just be close to somebody that he has never really experienced before now.

When this thing between them first escalated Blaine had only asked for one thing from him: _No promises._

Promises got broken. Promises only ever ended up hurting people. Promises are lies just waiting to happen, Blaine tells him, and Blaine is tired of being lied to.

And Sebastian really isn't the kind of boy that people rely on. He breaks and he hurts and he lies. So Sebastian doesn’t promise him anything.

Not out loud, anyway.

\--

Sebastian has been to two of his father’s weddings in his lifetime.

The last time he had been seven years old and they had trotted him out as the ring-bearer in some horrific, pale lilac waistcoat that matched the bridesmaids’ dresses. After presenting the rings on a satin cushion he had been forced to try and sit politely in the front pew next to his grandfather who had proceeded to snore through the entire ceremony. He remembers that day as being one of the worst of his entire life.

He is thankful, at least, that this time around his step-mother to be has simpler tastes.

Julia seems nice enough, even if she is closer to Sebastian’s age than his father’s. She is smart and driven and Sebastian can understand why his father likes her. Her dress is simple and elegant, she has two bridesmaids who seem nice enough and the groomsmen’s tuxes are a simple, classic black that Sebastian isn’t above noting that he looks damn good in.

This wedding, unlike its nightmarish predecessor, also benefits from the impeccable addition of Blaine Anderson’s ass in a very nice tux.

Sebastian thinks that maybe even his seven-year-old self could have appreciated _that._

But this is the part he has been dreading.

Blaine is busy twirling one of Sebastian’s cousins across the dance floor, beaming widely in spite of the fact that he hadn’t met a single one of these people until about an hour ago, but it only takes a little manoeuvring to cut in. Amanda scowls at him in the process, but it is more than worth it to see Blaine’s smile slip from the blinding, show-smile into something a little more genuine when he realizes who it is.

“Having fun?” Sebastian asks, covering up the undercurrent of nerves in his voice with a wide smirk because now that his father is at precisely two-and-a-half scotches and has gotten through the first dance, he thinks he really can’t put this off any longer.

“More fun now that my _date_ is back,” Blaine replies, the corners of his eyes actually crinkling with the force of his smile.

Blaine has been dropping the word 'date' into their conversations every chance he gets since Sebastian had asked him to the wedding. He is starting to suspect that Blaine might be making fun of him.

“Your cousin is very strong-willed,” Blaine continues, straight-faced, as Sebastian somewhat nervously tries to edge them across the dance floor in the direction of the table where the Wedding Party is seated.

“It’s a family trait,” Sebastian replies with a shrug, eyeing the group of his cousins that are gathered at the edge of the dance-floor and watching them both with interest with narrowed eyes. 

Blaine looks warm and just a little bit ruffled, the effects of the glass of champagne he had downed at the toast bringing a little colour to his cheeks. The effect is startlingly sexy and Sebastian is more than grateful that his duties for the night are officially over.

If only he can just get this over with.

“- Blaine,” he starts to say, glancing briefly over to where his father and his uncle are sitting together, laughing over something, whilst his new step-mother is away being whirled across the floor by her brother.

Blaine meets his eyes, cocks his head a little to the side and asks, “ _Yes_ , Sebastian?”

Sebastian steels himself, closing his eyes briefly before summoning up his best smile to say, “I just thought you might like to meet the guy whose Champagne you’ve been drinking.”

There is a brief moment of surprise before Blaine actually _laughs_ at him. “You mean your _father_ , Sebastian. You can say it, you know, you want me to meet your father.”

He is pretty sure the expression on his face must look entirely stupid (which he hurries to rectify because he can see his cousins smirking at him from the corner of his eye) and the part of his brain which is telling him to deny, deny, _deny_ is overthrown when Blaine rolls his eyes and thunks his forehead forward, right against Sebastian’s collarbone and laughs out, “Subtlety isn’t exactly your strong suit.”

“Say’s the guy who once serenaded someone with a _Robin Thicke_ song,” Sebastian scoffs back immediately and winces as Blaine pinches at his side, _hard_.

“One day I _will_ find out who told you about that,” Blaine grumbles beneath his breath.

“I will take that secret to my _grave_ ,” Sebastian replies. “I swore a Warbler oath and everything.”

Blaine actually scoffs at that, leaning his head back to stare wryly up at him and say, “Well?” 

It takes a moment for him to catch on to what Blaine is asking, but when he finally gets it he rolls his eyes and desperately tries to ignore the way that his cousins have shifted around the edge of the dance floor for a better vantage point. 

Clearly Blaine is going to milk this moment for all that he possibly can.

“ _Fine_ ,” Sebastian mutters, ignoring the twitching at the corners of Blaine’s lips as he asks. “Do you want to meet my father or not?”

“I would _love_ to meet your father,” Blaine replies sweetly.

Sebastian rolls his eyes again and takes a step back, surprised when Blaine determinedly seizes his hand and threads their fingers together. It’s _weird_ and he is pretty sure one of his cousins might have just gone into shock, but it is also kind of nice.

\--

It turns out that he definitely had reason to worry, but not for any of the reasons he had anticipated.

Sebastian has witnessed time and time again how people can’t seem to help but be charmed by Blaine and he is clever enough to keep up with his father when he starts to fire off questions, if perhaps a little too nice to notice the edge to most of them. 

The problem he hadn’t anticipated running into is that his father, who has never shown any particular amount of interest in his son’s love life up until this point, suddenly seems _fascinated_. It is frankly kind of horrifying.

His father is telling Blaine how nice it is, that Sebastian seems so much happier recently, how he can’t stop _talking_ about Blaine (and god that’s such a _lie,_ he and his father have barely even seen each other between planning for the wedding and his father’s work) and Sebastian kind of wants to crawl under the stupid fancy table linens and stab himself with his desert fork because it seems a considerably less painful death than the one he is going through right now. 

He is pretty sure he should have seen this coming; that his family would take full advantage of him showing even the smallest amount of vulnerability in showing up with an _actual_ date. That they would see that this _whatever_ it is, this _no promises_ thing he and Blaine have going, has gone and turned into _something_ for him and that they would use that entirely to their advantage by humiliating him. 

As if she is sensing the turn his thoughts have taken, Julia seizes the desert fork next to his plate with a sweet smile and a belated, “Are you using this?”

Sebastian grunts a negative, narrowing his eyes at where Blaine has that wide, brilliant grin on his face that Sebastian knows is his equivalent to a smirk, and turns his consideration to the salad fork instead. 

He really should have known this would happen.

\--

Thankfully, the torture doesn’t last all that long.

Sebastian manages to make his excuses relatively quickly about wanting some fresh air and Blaine frowns but follows on his heels as Sebastian snatches two unopened bottles of champagne from one of the tables and makes a beeline for the doors leading outside. He stalks around the long, wrap-around porch until the glow of the reception disappears and the night is quieter, darker, lit only by the wind of fairy-lights around the porch railing. When he finds the right spot he slumps down the wall to sit, setting one bottle aside before he expertly cracks open the first.

There is the _pop_ as the cork goes flying off into the bushes, then the fizz of champagne bubbling up over his hands before he lifts the bottle to his mouth to drink. Wrinkling his nose as the bubbles tickle his nostrils and the taste hits the back of his throat.

He hears Blaine’s footsteps come to a pause, glances over at the shiny dress shoes from the corner of his eye, watching them shift uncomfortably as Blaine hesitates before he asks, “Did I do something wrong?”

And Sebastian doesn’t really know what he expected to happen, inviting Blaine to the wedding of all things, but surely things could be worse than his family actually seeming to _like_ him. 

Truth be told he doesn’t even know why it matters so much, that his family finds it so goddamn funny that he may actually have _feelings_ for someone, except that this thing with Blaine actually matters to him now and it is growing harder and harder to pretend like it doesn’t.

“No,” Sebastian replies shortly, taking another long gulp from the bottle and grimacing when it fizzes over his tongue before extending the bottle towards Blaine. “It wasn’t you.”

Blaine stares down at him for a moment before stepping forward to take the bottle from him, tipping it carefully to his mouth and wrinkling his nose adorably when the taste hits his tongue. After a moment he carefully steps closer and sinks down against the wall next to him, the bottle held carefully between his fingers as he glances over and says, “I don’t get it. I thought they were being nice?”

Sebastian grimaces to himself and reaches for the second bottle, deftly pops the cork on that as well, letting the foam fizz over onto the deck before he mutters, “That one’s for you,” and takes a long sip from the bottle.

Of course this is the point where he stares at Sebastian with those big, Bambi eyes of his and just doesn’t get it. Because apparently Blaine’s the only person in the entire state of Ohio who can’t seem to see how much more Sebastian wants from him. 

Sometimes Sebastian rues the day that Blaine had leaned over him, face unnervingly solemn considering what they _had_ been doing (what they were about to be doing) and made him repeat those two stupid words after him. _No promises_. 

There is a heavy clunk as Blaine puts his champagne bottle aside, turning towards him to say, “I don’t understand. I thought you’d want your dad to like me.”

“Of course I do,” Sebastian replies immediately, his fingers clutching hard at the neck of the bottle before he laughs bitterly and scrubs a hand frustratedly across his eyes. “Why don’t you get it? I want him to like you, I want them to like you, I want my mother to like you and I want my friends to like you and I want every single person in that _room_ to like you because I don’t know _why_ but sometimes I think I’m half in fucking _love_ with you and every single one of them can see it, and they’re all so busy laughing because Sebastian has _feelings_ for once in his life and the only one who can’t see it is _you_.”

It is suddenly, unnervingly silent and Sebastian turns his head away as he realizes what he has said and reaches for the bottle, taking another long, _long_ sip because maybe if he drinks enough he will be able to forget this entire night even happened.

The silence stretches and stretches and he hears Blaine take another sip from his bottle before he starts to get to his feet. Sebastian turns his head sharply, because he didn’t think that Blaine would just up and _leave_ without saying anything, but Blaine is just standing there, staring down at him.

After a moment he offers a hand and there is a strange look on his face as he tilts his head a little and says, “C’mon.”

Sebastian frowns, staring at the hand for a moment before reaching out to take it, letting Blaine help haul him to his feet and not really knowing what is happening when Blaine keeps hold of his hand and starts leading him around the porch. He follows him in silence, down the steps into the garden, across the stone paths and through the flowerbeds, over the grass and into the copse of trees that hide the driveway from view of the estate.

The noise from the reception is contained and distant from out here, reduced to soft murmuring and the clinking of glasses and the muffled noise of the band floating over it all. There are fairy-lights wound through the branches of the tree that Blaine pauses beneath, their glow reflected in the dark glass of the bottle clutched tight in one fist and it is only when he comes to a stop that he releases Sebastian’s hand.

The night air is thick and humid, the soft glow of lanterns casting shadows in the dark as Sebastian follows the last few steps that Blaine shuffles back against the tree, tucking his hands into his pockets and feeling that familiar, pang of _want_ at the way Blaine has to tilt his head back to look up at him.

“What are we doing?”

Blaine leans back into the trunk of the tree, letting out a soft hum of a response that Sebastian isn’t sure he knows how to interpret, the wine bottle clunks dully as it comes into contact with the tree and Blaine stares up at him, his eyes cast dark and indecipherable by the night.

“Remember the first time we got together?” Blaine asks suddenly and Sebastian wishes he could see his face better, so he could maybe understand where the hell Blaine is going with all of this.

“Of course I do,” Sebastian replies carefully.

It had been three weeks after the break up and something stupid had happened – Kurt had changed his relationship status on Facebook or he had sent a text or something – and somehow it had ended up with Blaine straddling his hips, pressing a finger to his lips and telling him those fucking two words.

“I said I didn’t want you to promise me anything,” Blaine continues, the wine bottle thunking again, loud against the trunk of the tree.

“And I haven’t,” Sebastian replies.

“Maybe I lied,” Blaine says, reaching out to grab him by the lapels of his suit and Sebastian follows willingly, crowding Blaine into the trunk of the tree and letting himself be pulled down into a kiss.

The wine bottle clunks to the ground, fizzing as it spills out onto the grass but neither of them pay it any attention, Sebastian is too busy fumbling at the buttons of Blaine’s jacket and dragging it off his shoulders. It lands off in the grass somewhere, forgotten the moment it is gone and Sebastian’s focus turns to dragging Blaine’s shirttails out of his slacks, sliding a thumb beneath the taut line of Blaine’s suspenders, over the thin material of his crisp, white dress-shirt and listening for the almost imperceptible gasp against Sebastian’s mouth when his nail skims over the sensitive skin of Blaine’s nipple.

Blaine’s fingers start working at the buttons of his jacket as Sebastian reaches the waistband of Blaine’s pants, his fingers methodically tugging Blaine’s shirt free, working from either side until they meet in the middle, a thumb pressed over the button of his pants when he realizes he doesn’t know what he wants, what Blaine even wants, and god if that isn’t their problem summed up in it’s entirety.

He hates that this is what Blaine does to him – that he never reacts the way Sebastian expects him to, never does things the way he wants, that he _confuses_ Sebastian all the time because Blaine refuses to make things simple or easy. 

Sebastian drops his hands back to his sides as Blaine pushes his jacket off his shoulders, letting it drop to the ground behind him before he pushes forward again, dragging his hands down Blaine’s hips, over the curve of his ass to dig into his thighs and haul him up. 

It isn’t _easy_ , Blaine may not be a big guy but he is certainly no lightweight and he lets out a hiss as his back slides up the rough bark, his thighs squeezing tight around Sebastian’s hips as he hooks his legs around him, the heels of his dress-shoes digging into Sebastian’s ass and his arms wrapping around his neck to hold on, his head thunking back against the trunk of the tree as Sebastian pins him to it. 

He squeezes hard at his grip on Blaine’s thighs and thrusts his hips experimentally forward, searching for the right angle; the drag of pressure against his dick, which is rapidly making it’s interest in his current situation known, pulling a soft huff of air from his throat. He revels in the stutter of Blaine’s breath when he finally gets the angle right and fingers dig hard into his back, slipping against the fabric of his shirt. He can hear the soft whine in his ear every time the drag of his hips provides the friction they both so desperately want. 

A part of him knows that this is almost entirely about control, about needing to see Blaine _need_ him in return, because Sebastian has never been very good at being vulnerable, at needing anything. 

His arms are starting to burn with the effort of holding him in place, but when he draws his head back away from Blaine’s neck to see his face, Blaine’s eyes pressed shut as he puffs out stuttered, panting breaths, what hits him the hardest is the utter faith Blaine is placing in him. 

Somewhere, along the lines, Blaine has decided to _trust_ him. Sebastian hadn’t asked for that and they have never promised each other anything, not out loud at least, but Blaine has given it to him anyway. 

Blaine’s eyes flutter open, dark and confused and reflecting back the glow of the lights strung up through the tree branches and he is so ridiculously pretty that Sebastian can’t help but stare for just a moment, his heart thumping loud and violent in his ears. He grinds his hips slowly forward, watching Blaine’s eyelids flutter and feelings his fingers flex and dig harder into his back.

“This _suit_ ,” Blaine breathes out, his voice sudden and loud over the faraway murmur of the band, “Cost more than I even want to think about. Unless you want me to ruin it you have to-“

His breath hitches again, his eyelids fluttering before he frowns a little at him reprovingly and finishes with a scolding, “- _stop_ that.”

“We could leave,” Sebastian breathes, dropping his face back against Blaine’s neck and pressing his lips softly to the skin there.

“We’ve both been drinking,” Blaine points out, squirming a little as Sebastian squeezes the grip on his thighs.

“I have a room,” Sebastian remembers, voice low as he forces himself to still his hips because the payoff will be so much better if he can just-

“I remember,” Blaine replies. “And there are fairylights digging into my back, can you-“

Sebastian rolls his eyes and takes a step back from the tree, reluctantly releasing his grip on Blaine’s thighs to let him slide down and wincing when his arms make their protests known. 

“You’re the one who chose to come out here,” Sebastian reminds him.

“I didn’t anticipate _that_ ,” Blaine points out, the low drag of his tongue across his lip unfairly distracting before he adds. “Not that I _minded_ that, exactly, it’s just-“

“The tux,” Sebastian finishes for him.

“That and the bark was really kind of uncomfortable, but mostly-“

“The tux,” Sebastian repeats and gets punched in the arm for his efforts.

“Sometimes I don’t know why I like you so much,” Blaine scoffs, but when Sebastian looks up Blaine is smiling, soft and pointed, shirt hanging out of his pants and so ruffled that Sebastian kind of wants to laugh.

“Yeah,” he replies as he steps back into Blaine’s space, dropping his hands onto Blaine’s shoulders and sliding his thumbs beneath the dark bands of his suspenders as he mutters, “Me either.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **notes** : This was written for the first Seblaine Week for the prompt 'Family Day'. It was also in part written for an anon prompt that was basically 'Seblaine FWB in which they’re both really just kidding themselves.' Title from _Some Nights_ by Fun.


End file.
